Heartsong
by Cherreh and Stormeh
Summary: When Brookstone and three other RiverClan warriors find a deceased Tribe cat with kits on RiverClan's snowy soil, she is resolute about keeping the kits...but why? Most cats can tell it's not just compassion that is driving her...[Full summary on profile]


**PROLOGUE**

EYES NARROWED AGAINST THE DRIVING COLD, A GRAY TABBY SHE-CAT PADDED forward painstakingly, pawsteps taking more and more effort each time. The she-cat's fur was streaked with mud and her green eyes were circled with it. Shivers sent spasms throughout her body and her enlarged belly convulsed.

She was ready for this death that her ancestors had sent for her…her heart had accepted her fate, and she wasn't fearful…but her kits? Were they to die at the cold claws of the snowstorm, too?

She shook her head. _It won't happen,_ she thought resolutely, and continued to go against the wind and snow, deciding with all of her heart that she would get to a Clan's camp before her kitting.

Before she had gone more than five tail lengths forward, however, she fell, snow covering her quickly. Her belly gave a lurch and a cry escaped her throat. Calling for help would be pointless; she knew that. But some cat had to take care of the kits…her beautiful kits…

Breathing ragged, she gave a last push and burst out of the snow that had covered her in the short time that she had been on the ground. The snow was beginning to make the mud melt, the mud, which had been a shield to the snow to keep out the cold. An old tradition.

Her vision blurred and, for the last time, she fell into the snow. Body convulsing, she gave birth to three kits, which fell in the snow at their mother's side. As she raised her head slightly, just enough to see their faces, she murmured, "I…failed you, my young ones… May…you find…life…and the…happiness you…should have…" She fell into death at that moment. The kits' tiny mouths opened as they mewled frantically for the mother that they would never have, the one that would have saved them from the cold. They huddled close together, hoping to have some protection from the snow that was quickly covering their bodies.

The mewling became weaker and weaker, and finally no noise escaped their miniscule throats at all. But they had missed seeing the ones that crept forward in the snow, their pelts covered in it, making them invisible. The four figures stalked forward cautiously, and one flicked its abnormally long tail to the others, signaling for them to retrieve the kits. They pawed away the snow gingerly and removed the kits from it, trying to see if they were even still worth rescuing. The first cat that had been the one to tell them to get the kits flicked its tail again and headed down a slope to a snow-covered dome-like structure only about ten fox-lengths away. Two of the kit-carrying figures disappeared from the third one's sight as it nuzzled the mother, as if saying good-bye, then picked up the kit and found its way into the snow structure as well.

* * *

"And you're sure this was a Tribe cat's litter?"

The four figures stood in a cave-like confine, snow free from their pelts, and they could easily be recognizable as four cats from a single light from a hole in the cave which was covered with ice. The largest one stood at the front, and the three other stood behind him, their tails curled around their paws which had the kits behind them.

The largest one, a dark tabby, nodded and flicked the tip of his long tail. "Nightgale was searching for mice that might have possibly buried themselves under the snow when she saw the Tribe cat moving through the snow," he explained in a low voice. "She returned and alerted me of the news…and when we returned to her…she was dead in the snow, these kits beside her."

The cat on the far left, a long-furred, black she-cat, nodded. "Shadeclaw is right. The kits would have died, Cloudystar," she mewed. "And we aren't sure of the Tribe's whereabouts now. Their dens were cleared out when we visited their old camp a few days ago."

The cat that sat directly in front of Shadeclaw had her tail curled tightly around her paws. Her fur was a pure white, though it glowed silver in the single light that poured from the ice hole in the top of the den. "You're sure that it isn't possible to find the Tribe?" she meowed finally, looking down at the kits.

The tortoiseshell she-cat that was sitting in the middle shook her head. "It would be impossible, and we would lose too many cats to the cold," she meowed quietly, eyes trained on the kit at her paws, its black fur smoothed back from the gentle caresses of her tongue.

Cloudystar sighed. "Prey is running short," she meowed slowly, "and we're losing warriors to the cold. It would be hard to have three more mouths to feed…"

The light gray she-cat on the other side of the tortoiseshell she-cat sighed. "It…would be harder…" she agreed, and Shadeclaw's eyes were cast down to the ground.

The tortoiseshell's eyes darted from one cat to the other, then to Cloudystar as she leapt to her paws, making the tiny black kit fall off of her paws and squeak. "Cloudystar, that would be murder!" she exclaimed. "You can't do that!"

Cloudystar's eyes flashed. "Brookstone, you are my loyal deputy," she meowed. "What are your reasons for speaking out so strongly?"

The tortoiseshell's eyes flickered down to the ground. "Opalrain, Shadeclaw, Nightgale, and I found them…surely there's another way to keep them than to just let them die at the cold claws of leaf-bare's snow."

Cloudystar's eyes stayed hard like flint for a few moments before softening slightly. "If Irispetal will agree to take care of them, they may stay. But I want for her to know the whole story, and that these kits shouldn't be told of it, that they should grow to act just as regular Clan cats would, believing in StarClan and such."

Sending a silent prayer to StarClan, Brookstone nodded, and all of the cats except for Cloudystar stood and exited the den, a kit in three of their mouths, leaving Shadeclaw without a burden. They entered the nursery and Brookstone eyed the scene. Two she-cats, one with two kits, one almost ready to kit, occupied the spacious den. Thorns and bramble that showed on the outside were covered by gentle fern fronds and bracken to keep kits' tiny bodies and wandering mouths from the pain. The floor of the nursery was covered with soft moss that was beginning to brown at the edges from the lack of water in the warm den.

The she-cat with kits, a white she-cat with black ears, looked with surprise at the kit. "Brookstone, what…?"

Brookstone deposited her bundle beside Nightgale and padded over to and crouched beside the she-cat. "Irispetal, please listen," she meowed, her voice taking on a tone of desperation that she hadn't meant to have. "A…a Tribe kit-mother died tonight. She left her kits here while she left to join her ancestors. They need milk soon…" She watched as her kit edged its way over to Irispetal's belly where her other two kits were suckling and wedge its way in between the two as Irispetal looked on with already-loving eyes.

"That's all I need to hear," she meowed, and the other queen, a white she-cat with a brown chest and muzzle, nodded. "I would be more than willing to take care of them."

Brookstone smiled at the caring queen. "I'll help, too, in any way I can," the other queen meowed quickly in a soft voice.

Brookstone looked at her gratefully. "Thank you both so much," she meowed, voice holding the same gratitude that her eyes did. "But I must ask you to do something else for me…don't tell them their story. Please let them grow up believing that they are yours, Irispetal."

Eyes filled with understanding, the queen nodded. "Of course, Brookstone…of course. They will grow to know only StarClan and the four Clans here."

The other two cats stepped forward and placed the kits they were holding at Irispetal's belly. Brookstone stared at them silently. One was a black kit, the other a light tortoiseshell kit with a white chest and splotches, and the one that had wedged itself into the middle of the other two kits was a deep gray, almost blue-tinted, with faint stripes, giving it a little bit of its mother's look.

Cloudystar entered the nursery and looked at Irispetal and the kits warmly. "I knew I could depend on you," she murmured to the queen, and then looked at the kits. "They need names… The black one shall be Ebonykit, the tortoiseshell Tawnykit, and the gray kit…Eveningkit."

Brookstone gave a small thanks to both of the queens and dipped her head to Cloudystar before exiting the nursery so the queens, Cloudystar, Nightgale, Opalrain, and Shadeclaw could speak together, and padded out of the camp to sit at its entryway. The Clan would know of the kits before long, and fairly soon, so would ShadowClan, WindClan, and ThunderClan.

She sighed.

The kits' mother had been _so close_.


End file.
